


paper airplanes- bmc oneshot

by rainhours



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Gen, M/M, but if ya want to think it’s boyf riends then do that, if i got anything wrong about selective mutism then just tell me, just some fluff bc yeah, not really any ships in this, selective mute character, young boyf riends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 14:04:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14334042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainhours/pseuds/rainhours
Summary: in which a boy with no words meets another boy full of words via folded paper





	paper airplanes- bmc oneshot

i ran my fingers across the crease i had made down the paper. glancing back at the book, i made another crease, and another, until my ordinary sheet of paper had become a little airplane, ready for takeoff. 

“the best paper airplanes ever” was the title of the book. i found it a few days ago at a summer garage sale down the street. for some reason, amongst everything else on the table, this book stood out to me. the only bad thing about it was when the man working the sales talked to me. 

“huh, my daughter wasn’t too interested in that book, but i’m glad to see you are, eh?” he chuckled. 

i have learned over years of conversational experience that a statement ending in “eh” was normally like a question. which meant i had to respond. all i could do was nod my head, smiling at him. 

suddenly the man snorted. “you gonna say more than nothin’, boy?” 

well, i physically couldn’t, being selectively mute. my vocal cords and my mind really hated each other. beginning to tremble, i handed him the money and briskly walked away, quaking. i probably earned myself a weird look from the man, but at least i had the book. now its genius method was in my hands, ready to fly. 

i stood up from my seat at the table, grabbed my book, and headed out into the backyard. 

refold the wings. pinch right on the “lock”. i looked out across the yard, drew my arm back, and swung it forward, letting the plane zoom ahead on its own. it cut through the air and zoomed ahead, staying up for a magical few seconds before gravity brought it to the ground. i walked over to the plane and repeated the process, now facing my house again. pinch, draw back, swing, let go. the plane repeated this process over and over again. i loved it. this object i had made, had the capability to fly! it seemed incredulous. 

pinch, draw back, swing, let go. 

pinch, draw back, swing, let go. 

pinch, draw back, swing, let g-

oh wait, now it’s in the neighbor’s yard. 

 

ah, frick.

 

don’t worry, don’t worry, maybe they won’t notice, just make another plane! 

i ran back inside and found another piece of paper. taking my seat at the table, i opened the book and repeated the steps i followed for the first plane. after a few minutes, i was back outside. but i didn’t want to lose this plane! 

i settled for taking a seat in the grass and throwing the plane low to the ground, like a real airplane from the hangar. this was kinda fun, i guess. just a low gentle throw, stand up, find the plane, and repeat. 

throw, stand, find, repeat. 

throw, stand, find, rep-

“excuse me?” a voice said.

i felt a burst of cold shoot through me. 

“i-is this your plane?” the voice asked. 

slowly, i turned around. in the neighbor’s yard stood a boy about my age, holding the plane between his fingers the same way i did to fly it. i shakily nodded and began to walk towards him. there was a relatively low fence in between our yards, and the boy leaned over it to hand me the plane back. 

“it’s really nice!” he told me, “i’ve never seen a plane folded like this.”

“it’s called the nakamura lock”, i wanted to say, but i couldn’t. all i managed to do was show him the cover of the book.

“the best paper airplanes ever,” he read. “oh, neat!” 

he grinned at me, a look that said, “hey, you’re not trash. in fact, you seem pretty cool.”

“are you out there all alone?” the boy asked. sadly, that was the truth. when you can’t talk, not many people want to talk back. i nodded again. 

“you can come over to my yard, if you’d like,” he suggested. well, he didn’t seem too mean, and it’s just next door, so i nodded once more. his eyes lit up and he almost ran to unlock the gate on the side. i headed over to the gate on my side and unlocked it, making sure to lock it again as i walked over to his yard. 

“oh, by the way, my name’s michael,” he said.

i smiled and opened the book to the inside cover to show him where i had written my name. 

“well hello there, jeremy heere,” he replied after reading it. 

we sat down on a patch of grass and i showed him how to fly the plane. it didn’t take too long for him to figure out. soon, michael and i were alternating turns throwing the plane across the yard, laughing. 

well, he laughed. i didn’t. actually, i couldn’t. all i did was grin.

after a few turns, michael asked me the question i’d been dreading. 

“so, jeremy?” he began, “you don’t talk that much, or laugh. is there a reason? am i just… not fun?”

i shook my head, assuring michael that i didn’t hate him. quickly, i pointed at my throat with my finger and drew an “x”. a universal way of saying “hey, i can’t speak”.

he suddenly became almost stern-faced, like everything was falling into place now. all he said was “oh.” 

i kind-of sighed. i couldn’t really sigh, but i think he got the point. 

“um… not to be rude, but is it an illness?” he asked.

i shook my head again. 

michael nodded. suddenly he straightened up again and dashed inside his house, leaving me alone in his backyard. where was he going? 

a minute or so passed, then he ran back out, slamming the door behind him. in his arms was a small stack of paper and a pencil. oh, i could write to communicate with him! wow, i’m stupid for not thinking of that before.

“i was thinking, how about you-“ he said, but i grabbed a piece of paper and the pencil, nodding eagerly. 

we sat back down in the grass. 

“so, jeremy,” michael began in the voice of a cliché news reporter, “to clarify… you can’t speak because…?”

this was simple. i wrote on the paper “i’m a selective mute. it’s really really hard for me to speak around people. but it doesn’t mean i hate you”.

“oh, okay.” he replied. “now, away from that topic, what is your opinion on video games?” 

this was easy too. i wrote “i love them!”

michael pumped a fist in the air enthusiastically. “awesome!” he yelled. “i love video games too! hey, i just beat level eight of apocalypse of the damned! i’ve heard it’s a lot more fun on two-player mode though. want to play?” 

i bit my lip and wrote “i’ll probably have to ask my dad first but of course”. 

another fist pump. “double awesome!!” 

smiling for the first time in a while, i held up a finger to say “one minute” and ran back to my house to ask my dad about hanging out with this new friend. 

seems like paper airplanes can do more than just fly.

**Author's Note:**

> raise your hand if this was too fluffy for you to handle 
> 
> (raises own hand bc i forgot i was capable of doing that) 
> 
> -milo


End file.
